What everyone thought was a meteorite, burning its way through the thick of the Earth’s atmosphere, wasn’t a meteorite.

Which was why those air-defense systems that were supposed to stop it, did not. They let it pass.

And the strange object entered the airspace above New York City unhindered.

Although it wasn’t a meteorite, which from a distance it looked like it was, it was impossible to tell what else it could have been really, it fell on the city as hard as if it were one. It crashed into Corby’s apartment building like an 18-wheeler, slicing through metal and glass like a hot knife through butter. And on its way down it bored a hole a hundred floors deep and as wide as a refrigerator, before it stopped finally.

By a lucky coincidence, no one was hurt, which given the scope of impact, they were indeed very lucky.

It was Corby’s apartment, of course, where the faux meteorite had landed, just his luck. Only, it wasn’t a meteorite. And Corby himself still hadn’t the slightest idea of what it was.

It all happened so fast he barely had time to register what happened exactly. The first thing he knew, after, was that the room was full of smoke. The smoke detectors were going off, and he was crouched in the corner, coughing, trying to breathe. He shielded his eyes with his hand to protect them from the flurry of sparks flying everywhere, for all around him now there were smashed lightbulbs and torn electrical wires. Only after his ears stopped ringing, the full impact of what had happened started to dawn on him. His renter's insurance was not going to cover this. Because he didn’t think to insure his apartment against an effing piece of rock from space. Touché! He didn’t realize he needed to.

When he felt like he could stand, he stood. His head was spinning but, at least, his knees didn’t buckle. The timing wasn’t good for this. He was out of shape, physically as well as emotionally, very much so. He straightened himself and took a cautious look around. Thanks to the hole in the wall, which he had two now he guessed, one in the wall and one in the ceiling, the smoke was beginning to clear. Carefully, step after step, he advanced forward, deeper into what used to be his apartment, though it looked strikingly different now like he was suddenly transported to a whole different place. Not that it looked any better before, mind you. Just different.

He couldn’t recognize the place. Most of all a giant smoldering orb in the middle of his apartment looked like it didn’t belong there. Corby was careful to approach it. Having seen meteorites before, he was sure it wasn’t one of them. It was made entirely out of gold, for one thing. Like pure gold, which for a standard meteor would have been next to impossible. Also, it was perfectly round. It sustained its rotund shape despite the fall. It didn’t crack, chip, or fall into pieces, which if it were a regular meteorite was what Corby would have expected it to do. It very pointedly didn’t though, which led him to believe it wasn’t a meteorite. It was something else. Though he couldn’t quite tell what it was exactly.

Whatever it was, it was hissing and sizzling right in the middle of his apartment, making him question everything he knew about space thus far. Because he hadn’t seen anything like it. Having settled comfortably on his checkered tiles, it was just sitting there, making a wheezing noise, not doing much of anything else now that it’d already done plenty. It didn’t look dangerous though, not at all. It didn’t even look as hot as Corby imagined it to be. But he really didn’t know since he’d already established it wasn’t a meteorite. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be hot. Well, it wasn’t cold either, he was pretty sure. Because when he approached it, pieces of it started melting off, making strings like cheese on a pizza.

Looking at it now, it wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before, and he had difficulty trying to place it. In twenty-two years in space, he thought he’d seen it all. But nothing like this! He narrowed his eyes at it. It was anybody’s guess what it was because he had no idea. Could have been anything! He looked up at the burrow it made above his head. Had the thing landed a little bit to the right, he’d be dead now. He guessed he was lucky to be alive. All but five minutes ago, before the thing landed, he thought being dead was exactly what he wanted. But he wasn’t so sure now.

Some of the gold must have rubbed off onto the sharp metal edges of the burrow, because a lot of it was now gold too. As well as everything around the orb, Corby noticed. And it wasn’t before. He kicked debris out of the way, and crouched down to inspect it closer.

The orb was visibly cooling down now, the gold solidifying somewhat on its surface. Some of it must have spilled onto its surroundings while it was still hot, Corby assessed, like honey out of the honeypot, coating everything within its reach, making everything nice and golden. He frowned at that idea though. Something didn’t add up. Something was still wrong with this picture.

He picked up a mug from the floor to help him thumbs-up or thumbs-down his spillage theory, which the mug was golden now, and it wasn’t before. Before it was ceramic, he was pretty sure. Because he couldn’t even afford gold, not that he’d ever considered it. He always was more of a silver person. He frowned and put the mug back on the floor. Looking around, there were also other items. I.e. a box of matches from planet Hulahkazoo his buddy Finger gave him, as well as sunglasses from Tryek, a souvenir from the General. They were all golden now, the glasses, the box, and the matches.

His toothbrush too, and a roll of floss. Which those were plastic before, obviously. They were gold now, complete with tiny little golden bristles and a golden logo on the handle of the toothbrush. The gold from the orb simply couldn’t have spilled like that, could it? Corby cocked his head to the side, pondering. And then a more disturbing thought occurred to him. Realistically what would have happened if the molten gold came in contact with plastic? It would have melted it, right? He wasn’t a scientist but he knew as much. None of the plastic was melted though. It was still in its original shape, just golden now.

There was no explanation for this but clearly, this is what happened, everything around the orb was made into gold. Things were simply turned gold upon contact. Which it was impossible, right? But the more Corby thought about it, the harder it was for him to deny. He was already frowning so he frowned more. There had to be some other explanation. This couldn’t be it. Things didn’t just turn into gold spontaneously, on a whim. It didn’t happen. And had he been given more time to reflect on this, cogitate, and mull it over, he might have been able to come up with a logical explanation. But unfortunately, the orb started cracking open, and that required his undivided attention.

He leaped to his feet, the mug, the matches, and his new-and-improved golden toothbrush left on the floor and forgotten. Like an egg ready to hatch, the orb shimmied, bobbed back and forth. A distinct crackling sound accompanied its erratic fitful movements. Corby narrowed his eyes at it, holding his breath. Was something alive going to pop out of it now? An alien? Like it wasn’t enough it wreaked havoc on his entire apartment building already. Now it was going to hatch too? He had his fair share of encounters with aliens, and those oftentimes weren’t pleasant. But he was ready for this. If he had to deal with an alien creature in his apartment, right then and there, he would. Though he didn’t really know what to expect from this. So, picking up a piece of some oblong debris from the floor seemed like a good idea. He brandished it in front of him as if it were a baseball bat, which he could have totally used a baseball bat as a weapon, and got himself ready.

Though, peeling off layers of gold, not a strange alien creature emerged from the egg but a normal-looking post-adolescent human boy. At least, for as long as Corby could trust his eyes, he thought it was a boy. And the young man looked positively human.

He was naked too. Under all the layers of golden nougat, he wasn’t wearing anything. And it became very clear he was a boy, with all the skin he was showing, and the sinewy physique, and the boy parts. And as the nougat crusted on his skin, he peeled it off too, revealing even more skin. And the more he did, the more certain Corby became he was a boy. He was looking right at it, after all. He couldn’t stop looking. He had to make an effort not to look.

The boy wasn’t injured from the fall, not at all, the man-boy. Not a scratch, not a blemish on his flawless body. He was rather radiant, and rosy-cheeked, looking as healthy as ever like he was born yesterday, which after the fall he’d taken it was a miracle he was alive at all.

Corby’s eyes widened when the man-boy stood up and straightened himself. He was, for the lack of a better word, perfect.

He wasn’t holding steady on his feet though, the young hatchling. So Corby offered a hand to him, instinctively, being polite, wanting to help. Only the boy shied away from it, hissed, like an animal. He froze suddenly in his tracks, in a defensive position, looking at Corby, his deep blue eyes trained on him. Corby froze too, not knowing what to do, not wanting to scare him further. He himself couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He couldn’t help himself. He stifled a nervous laugh. It was just too much, way too bizarre, this and everything that happened this evening. His brain was barely catching up trying to process it, make sense of it, but Corby was thankful his brain was at least still in one piece.

As far as alien species go, something as beautiful was his first. He never encountered anything like this before. The boy was an alien though, had to be, even though he very much looked human. He couldn’t have been human. If he was human, he couldn’t have fallen from the sky and survived. He’d be dead by now if he was human, despite his golden carapace. He was alive though, not a scratch. He looked human, sure! But it was simply impossible for him to be.

Meanwhile, the man-boy was trying to stare Corby down, far from dead, breathing heavily. Corby stepped away from him, giving him room. The apartment was as good as his now anyway, what with the crash and the space orb making half of it golden. He practically claimed the place, and remade it to his liking. Which he liked gold, apparently, and Corby was still a silver person. He wondered if their differences were going to impede on them becoming friends. And he wanted him to be his friend. He knew he wanted him in his life the moment he’d seen him.

The boy eased up, proceeded to unravel himself from his golden nougat, his eyes still landing on Corby from time to time, too cautious not to, still afraid to turn his back on him. It was a pair of baby blues looking at Corby, human eyes, very human eyes. Very beautiful. Corby had never seen anyone like this. Clearly, the boy was not from this planet. It was like he was from another world.

“Hi there!” he threw at him, in a breath, maybe his first breath in over a minute. Earlier he was too stunned to breathe. But now he remembered he actually needed to.

The man-boy looked at him, anxiously from under his eyebrows. Not sure what to make of it. If he was really a hatchling, Corby thought, he might not have been too familiar with the concept of speech. Not yet. Corby moved (barely an inch) towards him.

The boy dropped to his knees, assuming a self-defensive animal position, protecting himself, hissing, like a frightened young cub, purely on instinct. Corby would have been frightened too, he guessed, if the boy wasn’t so cute. He was no animal, after all. There was nothing about him, other than his stance, that screamed animal. And he was naked too, so Corby could see everything. Other than a fluff of pubic hair, he was as bare as a featherless fledgling, which Corby thought it rather suited him, not being hirsute. He was the opposite, smooth, silky-skinned, whiskerless. And he was shivering, Corby noticed. He reached out to him, on instinct, in a subconscious attempt to comfort him but the boy recoiled, cowering behind his golden carapace, his fearful eyes trained on Corby.

“Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you…” Corby tried to explain, hoping that if maybe not the words then his soothing tone would placate him. He tried his best to appear non-threatening. He stepped away, giving the boy some room, and he stopped looking at him. The man-boy seemed to relax, just a smidge.

Corby glanced at him, trying not to stare, which he was finding increasingly difficult. He didn’t want to keep his eyes off him, the boy was very pretty. And now that he had a minute to study him, it was beginning to dawn on him just how pretty exactly he was. And the way he crouched on the floor was rather endearing. Corby couldn’t help but already feel protective over him somehow, which was ridiculous because they’d literally just met. It’s just, savage or not, the boy was adorable as a kitten.

And those big kitten eyes were looking at him right now. With a mane of red hair atop his head, tangled in the golden lamina, glowing like fire. Whatever he was, he wasn’t human, not really. Couldn’t be. And yet he looked so much the part.

“You alright there?” Corby asked, managing a soft whisper, trying to offer the man-boy his hand again. But that only brought more hissing. An animal. And Corby backed away.

“Alright, alright. I’ll piss off,” he said, retreating as the boy watched him closely. But only a little bit because creating the distance between them would be the last thing he’d want. He wanted to remain close to him. He wanted to watch him up close, to study him, his body, his legs, his arms, his face, everything. He was extraordinarily pretty, whatever he was. A fine specimen of an alien creature that could have been easily mistaken for a man. Corby shook his head involuntarily in disbelief there was really this angel of a boy right there in the middle of his apartment. He didn’t understand how did it happen he was even here. He was still dazed from the impact, he guessed, because he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t figure out what was happening. And usually, he was quicker off the mark. The man-boy meanwhile was studying him too, never taking his eyes off him, more curious now than afraid.